Endlessly
by anotheropti
Summary: Underneath a sea of stars that she should be annoyed by, April can only wonder if they'll be as infinite as the space above and the Grand Canyon before them. Set during 4x06 - "End of the World."


**A/N:** _If you read these here, you're missing out on many, many more smut fics over on AO3 (handle: opti) where I would greatly recommend you go to check out more fics such as this :)_

 _It's ridiculous that there aren't more April/Andy smut fics and that there aren't any concerning 4x06 "End of the World" because... well, duh. I chose to focus on the actual Grand Canyon portion of this episode, though don't think for a second there weren't any roadside quickies/road head/dangerous fingering going on in the interim ;)_

 _I hope you enjoy! Review, favorite, etc. if you do!_

* * *

In all honesty, April should hate this.

Seriously, the Grand Canyon is vast and kind of meaningless in that it's so freaking big. After a point, she can't really tell when it stops even though April knows that it does have an endpoint, but simply staring into it feels like she's looking into an otherworldly nothingness in the crater. Andy holds her tight, and the mixture of sweetly vanilla, grime in his hair mixed with the car freshener, and the earthen delights around them that April doesn't actually mind that much all coalesce into something she can't help but appreciate. It feels like some terrestrial heaven, and she's with the only person that could make it that way. Even if he thanks her for doing this for him - like she's going to hear about his bucket list and want to ignore it? - April doesn't know how to say it back without sounding whiny and needy.

Then again, he's kind-of used to that.

"Y'know, the presidents aren't… whatever," April doesn't bother with it anymore. He'll figure it out eventually, and until then he can think Mount Rushmore is somewhere in Arizona.

"What? Aren't they supposed to-"

She shuts him up by touching his cheek and leaning up, still with an arm wrapped around her, and kisses him. She can't really explain what this trip's doing to her. There's items on the list he crosses off before asking her about them, and the one of them upsets her into a mild annoyance that she brushes off for later. They can talk about _that_ one later, but for now this is what's important. She needs to show him that, for everything here that is his, it's also hers. What they have together, really, should be theirs and for everything she does for him he returns it without thinking.

She has to concentrate to help others and even him, but Andy can simply _be_ and let his inner benefactor pour happiness into her life without that same level of focus. He never expects anything back, but April wants him to have it because she can't live with herself thinking that she gets everything that she's ever wanted with him and that he's stuck with her. Night after night he reminds her that isn't the case, but it doesn't stop the spread of that sickening plague in her thoughts no matter how hard he tries. April appreciates it; no, she loves it. April loves him, too. Everything he does, says, is another check mark on a long list of why she's madly in love with him.

"Thank you," she whispers against his lips, settling back down on the soles of her feet when they break apart.

"What?"

"Nothing," she mumbles and shrugs it off. With the sun burning into her eyes she can hide some of it away, but when night comes and they're both more open it'll be difficult. "You wanna-"

"Hang out by the rim? Totally," he finishes and she smirks at Andy rushing away to the car to grab his guitar most likely.

* * *

Daylight fades with passing hours and the Arizona sun burns them up to the point where Andy needs copious sunscreen applied. Thankful for her thoughtfulness, Andy says she can do it for him. Which, really, she was going to anyways.

He's lying down on his stomach with the huge sleeping bag they brought underneath shielding him from at least the dirt if not the sharper rocks, April sitting on the flat of his lower back with some of the sunscreen smeared along him. Super white skin just makes her chuckle, rubbing some of the gooey lotion on his back while he hums underneath her like a pleased dog. She kneads in tight patterns here and there, happy that he almost moans at her attempted massage, and April decides that one day she'll try to give him a massage for real. He tries to give them to her but he's just not very good at them, so maybe if he gets a great one - and who knows what else he'll get - she'll get better ones. So, yeah, it's a little selfish, but it's a massage so it's okay for her to want a better one since they definitely can't afford real masseuses and masseurs.

Then she starts thinking about Andy getting a massage from another woman, or a man, and a spike of rage hits her, so April forgets all about that idea. Leaving bruises on his back isn't her goal after all.

April's strips off her shirt lest she wants to be cooked under the now boiling sun, and she pays more attention to how Andy's eyes drift to her more than anything. Naturally, he takes his off too but when she reminds him that he's going to be putting it back on he doesn't say anything. Instead he just flops onto the sleeping bag and waits for her patiently.

"Dude, you know it's my turn after this, right?" April says, getting the last bit of sunscreen on his back before working down to his arms.

"Whoa, you get sunburn?" he turns his head to look at her but can barely move to the side.

"Not really, but it's still not a great idea to sit in the sun all day without it," April shrugs. No matter what she says to other people, you don't get skin like that while _actually_ filling your pores with blood and guts. "Why, don't you want to put sunscreen on me?"

April mentions that pointedly, and the laughter that comes out of him is answer enough. Still, he has to say something. "I totally wanna do it, babe," he mutters, and when she sits up tall he shifts under her and grabs her sides.

Screaming with delight at the sudden movement, Andy's fingers move in little tickling patterns that earn him a series of giggles from her. Twisting around, she's set on her back on the sleeping bag and April kisses him with his hands still fumbling about her pants.

"Wait," she laughs, his fingertips eager to go down the front of her jeans. "Sunscreen first."

"Oh, yeah," he says happily and April turns to lay on her stomach. "You want me to get-?"

April undoes the clasp on her back, takes her bra off, and drops it at the side with a dramatic flourish. Whether Andy takes advantage of the new skin for sunscreen is totally up to him, and either way April will be more than happy.

Afterward, the moment is mostly lost and that's okay. When she sits up he stares at her chest before working the sunscreen there too, and April takes her own glob and together they spread the lotion over each other until they're ready to enjoy a day of sunbathing. Andy's still sans-shirt and April too, basking in the sun at the edge of the rim, and they sit next to each other. Of course he tries to sneak peeks at her boobs, which as far as April is concerned is ludicrous, but it's cute so she ignores it. After a few more minutes of just staring into the canyon, April puts her jacket on, a little to keep Andy's eyes focused on her and a little because she worries about people stopping, and they walk around the edge just a little bit.

It's a wonderful vista. Craggy faces of the bowl slope downward into the basin at the bottom, neat red and brownish red and even browner still dirt and mud cake the runway, and it's fascinating to stare at. April thinks she can see the ends of the perimeter but she prefers to think of it as an endless ocean of rock and clay. When they find a suitable spot near a large rock with a fairly flat surface, Andy sits down and April finds her own spot in his lap where he can wrap his arm around her waist, brush his hand beneath her jacket, and they can stare into this abyss together. Just in time for the end of everything or, more likely, the end of the day.

* * *

For the rest of the night, still half-clothed because no one else shows up, April and Andy stare into that pit and talk about things they've never brought up before. When they talk about building a house on the Grand Canyon, she tries her best to nudge at what bothered her so much before, but he doesn't seem to pick up on it. They'll discuss that later. She's been open with him before, some nights so open that she's afraid to be that way with anyone other than him now though April isn't sure she'll ever need to be like this with anyone else, but it's different.

There's scant few clouds in the sky, at night it's freezing, and the only comfort they have is a sleeping bag on the ground and that heavy quilt over them. Of course, she has Andy there as well and that's what makes it different, his furnace of a body against her that always makes cold nights like this comfortable. For any other person, this would be a chore or something that she would be vehement in running away from just because why on Earth would she want to drive for a day and then some just to see a hole in the ground?

Lying back on the sleeping bag, staring up at a sky littered with white glowing stars in the ineffable distance of space, they open up. Not that they were ever closed off before, save the one day with Tom's stupid game a few weeks prior, but April let things out and Andy joins her in asking, answering, and learning something about the other. It's, for some reason, comforting. April always thought it would be weird to share her hopes and dreams, and past, with someone else. Why would anyone care? Why would she _want_ to tell anyone about that stuff, anyways? Then again, the difference was no one else was like Andy.

April asks him what he always wanted to be as a kid. A firefighter, of course. Then it became an astronaut and, sadly, that was never going to be in the cards for Andy. That doesn't matter to her, and if it did matter to April she wouldn't have fallen for him as hard as she has in the first place.

Andy asks her what she was like as a kid. She was dumb and tiny, according to her. He can't believe that for a second, save the tiny part, and when she says that she used to wear stupid little dresses he has the most awful _Aww_ to give her that brings that flair of embarrassment up, and when he calls her cute, she has to nudge him with her shoulder or else she might just burst with heat.

When she asks him when his dad died, something that she knew but never thought to ask, he quiets. His face takes on a different shade, a side of him she's only ever seen once, that speaks to the bottomless sorrow she's dug an opening into.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Nah," he brushes it off, but she can hear the ragged breath come out of him slow like he's struggling to figure out the words. "Um, I was still pretty young. I think I was… wow, it's been that long. I was, um, eight."

"Oh," April whispers. She isn't sure what else there is to say, so she lets him speak.

"Car crash. Um, not a drunk driver or anything but he, uh, just sorta ran into someone one day," Andy's voice is low and somber, another aspect of him she didn't even know existed. April turns her head, ruffling the sleeper underneath, and the paltry light of the stars shines wetness in his eyes. Sliding her hand over to him, she laces her fingers in his and squeezes to speak for her where she isn't meant to say anything. "Yeah, so… he died. Didn't get to say goodbye, or anything."

For a moment, April wonders what to say or even if she _can_ say something without being callous or mean. Then again, there's that difference in who this is. There's no annoyance in her, only a heavy weight suddenly in her chest after he's said all of this and she wants to get rid of it. Only then does she realize what it is, and why it's unfamiliar: it's a sadness brought on by Andy's clear grief that he still has.

"I'm sorry," she says clearly, wanting to show that she's serious.

"Thanks," he mumbles. "Love you."

"I love you too, babe," April answers. "I'm glad you told me that. I didn't know-"

"Yeah," he interrupts and the hurry in his voice tells her not to bring it up again. At least, not right now.

There it is. The difference is that this is Andy. Other people, obviously, aren't Andy and it's who he is that causes her to care and show it. They, other people, don't make her feel like there's still a bit of good in the world left, and they don't create that sense that she can smile and be herself around him without fear of ridicule or annoyance.

What she said back in the Parks Department was serious - if this was the end of the world, the last thing she wants to remember, if there was anything out there to let her remember after that, is this. She might have meant it as a joke at first, but the more she thinks about it the more that April realizes what, or who, her world really is. If that isn't real, and they would just _stop_ then April would want their final moments to be looking up at the cloudless sky dotted with patches of pearlescent light together, marveling at the Great American Pit, and holding hands on that sleeping bag.

Turning to look at him, still holding onto his hand, April struggles to find the words. The world seems so vast and they're so tiny, less than those stars up in the sky Andy's still staring up at with the smallest smile of content across his face like he's never been happier, but April can't think of anything better. She doesn't want to be anything other than their own little universe on Earth, just the two of them shining brighter together, and if she wasn't so happy to be there, on cold, hard ground, with Andy then that imagery would make her want to throw up. But, like most things, being with Andy brings something else out of her she's glad for. It makes her feel less like a hollowed out shell lying, attempting to be something she's not, and he lets her know that it's okay just to be yourself and be that as strongly as you want.

She always knew that. April wasn't foolish, but there was always that barrier of irony and sarcasm between other people and with Andy, it never seems to be a problem or be there. He knows what the inside is really like, but she needs both of them - that icy exterior and the real April underneath - to survive. Andy knows that and it's what makes him special.

"Hey, babe," she whispers to catch his attention, and Andy takes a moment to respond. When he turns his head to look at her, slowly curling up around his side, his eyes disarm her.

She's used to seeing them bright and excited, and warm and loving; and everything that Andy is. What April doesn't expect is to look into his eyes and see the kind of sheer _otherness_ in them that shocks her system into thunderous heartbeats and goosebumps all over. Whenever Andy seems so simple, he has something like that to show her and give her like it isn't the most important thing that he entrusts her with these feelings.

Yeah, Andy's looked at her like she's the only person in the world before. Yes, that is just as amazing the twelve-thousandth time as it is the first, but this is somehow different. It's like she's been thinking, and what if they are really the last two people on Earth and this is their final hour? This is what she wants to see before that end of everything - those green eyes staring into hers like he could be there for whatever the rest of their lives means.

"Yeah?" he finally answers back.

"You, um, you're still happy we did this right? Instead of playing Xbox and eating pizza-"

"Are you kidding me?" he says with a laugh, his hands going to her waist and pulling her on top of him. "Babe, you are the single most amazing person in the whole world ever and if I could marry you again and do this again-"

"Yeah?" April interrupts him because, otherwise, she doesn't know how to respond. There's only so much being called the greatest person alive she can take before April breaks down. He knows about that, but he doesn't need to see it now. "Well, you-" she puts a hand flat on his chest and sits herself up on his stomach. "Are the best husband in the world."

"But I didn't do anything for you," he mumbles, eyes fixated on her and his thumbs travelling up the meager, sharp curves of her sides. "You're the awesome one."

She chuckles, grinding backward on him, his breaths quicker when she does it, and thinks. Andy reacts in obvious stiffness behind her, and she just smiles down at him. It's incredible how he doesn't realize this. How doesn't he know that, after all of this, just being able to be with him and be themselves, together, is what he's done for her? What did it matter, anyways? This was a relationship, not a contest.

"How about… we're both awesome."

"That sounds pretty cool," he murmurs sluggishly.

"Andy, be serious!" she taps his chest with her palm and rolls her eyes.

"I am! Babe, I super am," he tries to reassure her, and April knows. Meanwhile, he's more rigid a stopping point behind her, clearly taking a liking to feeling between her legs with every roll of her body.

"Seriously, you are-" April takes a sharp breath, blinking away any warning signs, and continues her metered grinding on him. Rolling her hips back down where she can feel him stiffening in his shorts with every repetition against her, she smiles. "I love you, Andy, and… if it's the end of the world I'm glad we're here together."

"Me too," Andy manages to get out before she slides back and lifts herself up over his bulge. She sits down so that he's fat in his shorts in front of her. "Me too. So awesome that you did this."

April shifts further down until her feet are edging closer to the canyon itself, her head on his thigh.

"Um-"

"It's still your day," she says with a smile and runs her hands up to his thighs. They're nice and meaty, fat but with muscle underneath that drives her wild.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Mhm," April mutters through a bit lip, focusing on her hands feeling up those thighs and working to the buttons of his shorts. Underneath her palm, after a glide along his length, he's hard and smiling a little dumbly at her. "Besides, you always feel better after I blow you."

"Hah!" he chuckles but April gives him a faint, deviant smile before unzipping and freeing him. "But you-"

"Me, what? This is about you, babe," she tells him again, stroking down once on his cock now thick in the cool air before engulfing him deep in her throat.

His hands go into her hair and for a moment April wonders if she should have tied it up, for the sake of practicality, but then he grips the back of her head and it's all balled in his fists anyways. Focusing down on her work around him, mouth wet around his cock and trying to salivate harder to get him sopping wet for her throat, April skirts a hand along his balls only to smile and laugh, muffled by him, at his hiss in response. Andy pushes her down for her, guiding her pace along his shaft, tongue flicking up and down with ever bob, and before long she pops off with his hand on her cheek, locking eyes with him while she lets languid laps of her tongue run from his head up and around his slit. Hot in her mouth, his eyes are even more thrilling. They stare and burn deep into her, telling her to continue and April only wants to listen to them.

Shoving him further back in her throat this time, April closes her eyes tight and lets the spit drape down his shaft and along her chin. The wetter the better was her motto, so it only makes sense to keep it that way for him as well. Instead of simply gracing his balls with a light touch, April firmly holds onto him with a light grip and strokes when she can remember to bother and not simply swallow him. Now with the additional lube around him, swallowing him whole becomes easier, and he's as hard as he's ever going to get, so April gives him the best sultry, bedroom eyes she can muster while throating his cock.

It seems to work, and she can feel him close with that purplish vein and its throbbing against her palate, but then he pulls her off of him and drags her to his side. His fingers undo her belt and buttons of her jeans in a flash, and April takes the hint.

"I know you said… y'know," he mutters, still lost because if April can't have his dick in her mouth (a sad thought that she hopes never comes to pass) she's going to keep him tight in her fist. "I wanna taste."

"Just a taste?" April taunts, smirking. She kicks the jeans off, sliding her panties down with them, and waits for him to respond after a rather scintillating roll of her thumb over his head and back again.

"Here," he grabs her by the hips and, before she can say another word, he lifts her up with ease, turns her, and sits her on his face. He tries to talk, but mouth full of pussy, all he can say is, "Mmf."

Sure, April can pretend all she likes that this was entirely about him and that she won't take anything for herself, but then his nose is fat, his tongue wide and delving inside of her with no forewarning, and she lets her appreciation out loud. No one can hear them or see them anyways, though April isn't sure if they'd give a damn or stop whatsoever if anyone passes by. It's the end of the world, why not give them a show?

But, now, it's them and only them.

It gives her time to look out into the starlit valley, and attempt to think. There's no room for her brain to shove itself into the equation, still on fire but relaxed, because one of his hands snakes underneath his chin and with his tongue still attacking her in dynamic patterns, shifting until she squeals and he knows that's the rhythm and measure she wants, his middle finger plays at her clit softly. His cock is still tall in the air, glistening from her mouth, but April gives herself another moment on his face to enjoy.

There, his facial hair scraps at her skin and her labia, with long strokes of his tongue massaging her into a stuttery climax that hits her, blending the white starlight into a blurry mess of indistinct color in the sky, and ends with her rolling waves in her stomach. She doesn't realize she's riding his face for another moment, but all Andy does is groan with a guttural and eat her with a fury that meets her rolling. His mouth clasps around her again and again, like he wants to taste every bit of her with lips and teeth and deeper still, until he's dragging at her a little and biting with barely an ounce of pressure but enough to pull a whine from her chest.

"Babe," she hums. "I've got… _fuck_ , an idea?"

He pushes her up just an inch to ask, "Yeah?" With another kiss nearer her ass, she moans. "You wanna-?"

He talks, but April barely listens. She's too busy feeling him deep in her cunt, fingers ardent and busy, and staring at his twitching dick still indurate and wet. April takes no time explaining the idea to him, instead folding her body as athletically she can so her breasts sit along his stomach and she's taken his cock between her lips again. The taste is sublime, and the mixture of sucking him off and her clit her being toyed with, his tongue going back inside of her, breaks her for a moment.

She doesn't know if he can feel it, but then he's lapping up her come and when his cheek comes into contact with her leg again it's wet and she stops herself, mouth full of him and halfway down his shaft buried in her throat, to think about his face covered in her.

Then he shifts her forward, his hand soft against her clit after her orgasm, and her face brightens when she realizes what's happening.

"Yeah?" he asks, his fingers pumping into her from behind and she _knows_ he's staring at her and, for some reason, that is the single best thing of the night.

"Do it," she says after popping off of him and sliding her lips up the side of his shaft, dragging them along his length to taste her own spit on his cock. "C'mon babe… eat-"

She means to say more but then his tongue circles her asshole for a moment and, with his fingers inside of her, she's trying to find a way out of the intensity building in her stomach. It passes over, and April's thankful she won't make that mess here, until her body feels like those endless waves of light above them. Stilling on his dick, she accepts the next three or four swipes around her ass before she scoots away from him.

"Aw, was it bad?" he asks, and she doesn't even bother to tell him how amazing it was. Instead she moves until he's hot and wet along her stomach, grinding his shaft along her clit once, before April lifts herself up and sinks onto his dick. "Oh _fuck_. Babe, you feel so… ugh."

"God," she agrees, leaning back so that he's impaling her at the reverse of her favorite angle. With her back along his stomach, his hand goes to her tit and fondles, rolling her nipple between his fingers. " _Fuck_ … g-go, babe."

He pumps up once, thrusting into her, and kisses the back of her neck. With her mouth still keeping him wet, and now her pussy, he easily fucks her with earnest, swift slams up into and against her. It takes only a few repetitions, their breaths and noises and the obscene sounds between them, before she can feel that final, weak rolling flash over her body that nearly blinds her. With her mouth hanging open, April can barely focus on the sky above and how it seems to wash away with her orgasm and Andy's close behind.

"Good? Good, babe?" Andy asks, one hand on her stomach, the other still carried away with groping her breasts. "That's… _ugh_ , good, babe?"

April nods, hair sliding against his face, with that last bounce on top of him, before she can feel him spilling out of her and down his dick. A roar bursts out of him, heavy and loud into her neck, with the last stream of come dripping out of her and down the underside of his shaft.

When they're both finished, April slides off of him and rolls over next to him. She's empty only for a second before she feels full again, remembering that she's close to sore and fucked out, and when she looks at him he's still got that bleary-eyed expression, his cock is still hard and soaked in both their come and her spit, and arousal, all with heavy, constant breaths.

"So…" she whispers, catching her breath. "Grand Canyon everything you thought it'd be?"

He looks over at her, and April realizes just how sweaty she is when she sees his brow covered as well, and can't help herself when they both erupt into loud laughter that echoes around them and through the canyon. April rolls onto her back, spreads her legs because _God_ she feels amazing, and can't stop laughing with him and the stars, in their annoying little ways, seem to laugh with them.

* * *

The next day, after they've had another rendezvous in the morning, this time April bent over the hood of the car and letting him continue his mouth's work from the night before, and with beat, tired faces, they stumble back to the car.

April doesn't know if they'll ever talk about Andy's father again, or about what they were like as children, or about the other things on his bucket list, but it isn't the end of the world. They still have their lives ahead of them to worry about those things, and talk, and just be themselves forever, and that's when April realizes that if the world _had_ ended and they're now just living their own personal heaven, nothing has changed. If this is the end, she's still with Andy.

That's what she'd want, anyways. To be with him forever, the two of them, and the prospect of eternity to makes her smile with the comfort that comes with it. To some it seems scary, like there's too much time, but to April it just reminds her that all of it will be with him and that, in some way, they're just as infinite as that canyon and those constellations. Perhaps they'd burn out like those lights just now reaching the Earth, but April doesn't believe that for a moment. Not for a moment does she do anything other than kick her feet up on the dashboard, look at the endless stretch of road ahead of them, smile at Andy after a brief kiss, and know that whatever's ahead of them - no matter what, and if it truly would _only_ be them - they'll be in it together, forever.


End file.
